


Before the Dawn

by embroiderama



Category: White Collar
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embroiderama/pseuds/embroiderama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While he was in DC with Diana, Peter learned of Neal's collapse and struggled to deal with it from afar while El stepped up to take care of Neal in New York.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the Dawn

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sahiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Through the Storm and to the Shore](https://archiveofourown.org/works/761150) by [sahiya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya). 



> This was written for [](http://sahiya.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**sahiya**](http://sahiya.dreamwidth.org/) for [](http://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**fandom_stocking**](http://fandom-stocking.dreamwidth.org/), and it's a missing scene/remix from her gorgeous story [Through the Storm and to the Shore](http://archiveofourown.org/works/761150). This story is a favorite of mine so it was wonderful to be able to play in that angsty, angsty world a bit.

On the phone with El, listening to her explain that she was at the emergency room with Neal who had _collapsed_ , Peter forced himself to stay calm, to say as little as possible. He was exhausted from a long, stressful day, and worry on top of that kind of exhaustion made it all too likely that he would say the wrong thing in the wrong way, and none of them deserved that. He promised to call Neal later on, he told El that he loved her, and then he sat down on the bench in the hotel lobby with his head in his hands while he waited for Diana. Driving home immediately wasn't an option, and Neal would be okay; Peter told himself that enough times that he started to believe it.

"Boss?" Peter looked up at the sound of Diana's voice, and the exhaustion in her face gave way to a concerned frown. "What happened?"

She looked like she was about to sit down, so Peter stood up. He needed that beer more than ever, and he didn't want to wait too much longer. He headed toward the door, and when they were in the parking lot on their way to the restaurant/bar Peter sighed. "It's Neal. He passed out in the office and Clinton sent him to the ER."

"Damn. Are they keeping him at the hospital?"

"No, he's going back to my house with Elizabeth." And that was a far more complicated situation than he could explain to Diana.

"Oh! Okay, that's...good." Diana sounded more surprised than Peter had expected, since as far as she knew Neal and El were friends.

"She wouldn't leave him there like that." Peter knew he didn't need to defend his wife, but he couldn't help himself.

"I know," Diana said, but something about the inflection was wrong. It was a flat statement, not an agreement. They were almost at the door to the bar, and Diana stopped and put one hand lightly on him arm. "Peter. I _know_. About the breakup."

Peter couldn't respond. He couldn't swallow, couldn't breathe, because they were in DC and Diana had his career and possibly Neal's freedom in her hands. "I--" Peter took a few steps away and turned his back to Diana. "How--"

"I figured it out and Neal was in no shape to con me out of the truth. That's the same reason I believed him when he told me it was consensual, so I'm not going to report this. You can trust me."

Peter turned around and saw just a trace of anger mixed with the concern in Diana's eyes. "I do trust you." He sighed and forced his shoulders to relax. "Thank you."

"Let's go get those beers."

Inside, they got a booth near the bar and ordered some food to go with their alcohol. Peter didn't know what to say.

"So, what's the situation with Neal medically, do you know?"

Peter sighed. "Apparently, he's got the flu, and you know he hasn't been taking care of himself so--"

"So it knocked him on his ass. Literally."

"Right." Peter took a deep swallow of his beer and let it smooth over some of the rough edges inside of him. "I have to fix this."

"I don't want to know a lot more than I already do, but I hope the three of you can work this out one way or another. The way things are--" Diana shook her head and took a drink of her own beer.

"It's not good. I know. I just want to wrap things up here tomorrow with the two of us still employed, and then I want to get home and work on getting everything back on track."

"That sounds like a plan."

They finished their beers and their food in relative quiet after that, and when they were done they went back to the hotel to decompress in their rooms. Peter texted El, and she said it would be good for him to call in about another hour, so he undressed and took a long shower. He couldn't get his mind off of Neal but he was too goddamn worried to even start getting hard. He tried to think about Neal in his arms, in his bed, and all he could do was imagine what Neal must have looked like, pale and unconscious on the industrial carpet in the office. It was wrong, the whole thing was wrong, but for the first time in weeks Peter felt like there was some chance of making it right.

When enough time had gone by, he called El and got the report on Neal's health, which was troubling but not nearly as awful as the worst things he had feared. He promised to talk to her again later then hung up and called Neal.

“Peter?” Neal's voice was rough and weak, and Peter wanted nothing so much as to reach through the phone and hold him close. Since that was impossible, all could do was try to reassure Neal that things were going to get better. That _they_ were going to get better. Neal sounded wasted, and Peter understood that the strength he'd been using to try to convince them all that he was coping was completely gone. This was Neal with no walls and no games, and he sounded so raw that Peter could feel the ache of it through the phone. After they hung up, Peter held the phone tightly in his hand and imagined kissing Neal goodnight, touching his lips to Neal's forehead and feeling the connection between them, solid and strong.

It had been too long, he knew, far too long, but they could wait one more night. He called El back, and she said she would stay home with Neal for most of the next day. He heard the affection in her voice, her love for Neal finding its way out of the dark place the past few months had become, and he believed that they would be okay. It would take time and work, but eventually they would be okay.


End file.
